


A Spoon Full of Sugar

by Webtrinsic



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Fainting, Father-Son Relationship, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, James "Rhodey" Rhodes is a Good Bro, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, They Get Hugs, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, smoothies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-14 08:37:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15384936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Webtrinsic/pseuds/Webtrinsic
Summary: Tony knew reasonably taking a hit for someone could be a good thing. But not when it was Peter, and he'd taken the hit for him.





	A Spoon Full of Sugar

**Author's Note:**

> I REMEMBER HAVING THIS READY TO POST SO LONG AGO BUT AO3 WAS DOWN WHEN I TRIED TO POST IT LIKE LAST MONTH AND I FORGOT ABOUT IT SO HERE YOU GO. 
> 
> Also I'm almost fully done with writing "A silhouette....", so hopefully when my editor gets around and hopefully can edit it all I can upload everything.

Rhodey smiled down weakly at the sight before him. Underoos lay down on the couch, his head pillowed on his friend's chest. Tony held his tablet in his arms, watching the same footage over and over again on the split screen. The left side being video from Peter's POV recorded by Karen and the right being his own.

Peter had jumped in front of Tony during their last fight, his left side was hit hard enough to rupture an organ and break his ribs and nearly crack his skull, hence the gauze wrapped around his head now, painting his forehead and covering the left side of his face and eye completely. His hair stuck out fluffily between the strips of white gauze.

Tony's hand was coming up every now and again to run his fingers through the strands, eyes never straying from the screen. He could practically see his friend’s chest tighten when Peter's cry fell through the speakers. Even he cringed at the sound, so he couldn't imagine how it was affecting his friend.

After the death of Peter's aunt, Tony had stepped up to take care of the boy. And their already father-son relationship strengthened. It was his son who'd gotten hurt, _for him_. Again the video played and Peter's cry came from the device. Tony's hand carefully covered Peter's head, holding him to his chest. Rhodey placed a warm hand on his friend's shoulder, drawing his attention from the screen. Tony looked up at him startled, his eyes upset.

"Why don't you put that down," He suggested, carefully taking the tablet from the inventor's hand. To stable his fretting hands, Tony carefully wound his arm around the sleeping boy.

"What if he does that again? What if next time he doesn't make it? He'll have died to save me," Tony whispered, pressing his lips to the boy's hair, eyes staring ahead in a blank trance.

"You'll be there, and right now, he's here. You got him Tones and he's not going anywhere," The colonel tried to assure the man. Only then did the child stir in his arms, moving to press his face closer to his guardian's chest.

His arms carefully wound around the man's waist and made a sound of discomfort when to much pressure was placed on his broken ribs. Rhodes stepped forward, helping Tony carefully adjust the boy to relieve the pressure. Raising a finger, Tony prompted FRIDAY.

"No further internal damage has been detected," She affirmed, relieving the two. Peter mumbled lightly, before falling back into a deeper slumber, content with where he was, and the ever-changing hum beneath his head.

\---

Peter woke the next morning in his own room, tucked in, pillows lightly stuffed under his bruised and broken side, elevating it. The pillow beneath his head wasn't the same hard memory foam. It was softer, it cradled his head as he laid against it, not putting any unwanted pressure on the scrapes, cuts, and bruises that marched along the side of his head.

They'd changed the bandages while he slept; you could tell because a small wad of hair that had been bothering him while pressed against his head had been shifted so it stood up as it usually did. While sitting up a burning sensation shot through his abdomen and his hands moved to hold it. A choked gasp escaping him. The biggest downside to having powers? It was his tolerance to the medication

The door opened and Tony quickly approached and ushered him back to his sleeping position, counting the pauses between Peter's labored breaths. Rolling up the cotton shirt holding to his child’s skin, Tony muttered, "Up," and Peter's arms obeyed as the shirt was shimmied off, leaving the gauze that covered his torso almost entirely before climbing up over his left shoulder.

Tony internally berated himself. He shouldn't have been wearing it, to begin with. The last time, Peter had shifted in his sleep the damn thing pulled the gauze away from its rightful place and nearly disrupted the stitches.

"I know it hurts Peter Pan," Tony sympathized, and Peter blushed. He'd only been in Tony's care for around two months almost three. And the special nicknames were all new. He wasn't used to a father figure caring for him anymore. It seemed so foreign, but here he was. And it just was so un-Tony; it was a part of Tony he assumed no one had ever seen before. Just him.

Reaching over to the bedside table, Tony picked up the glass. His free hand came up behind Peter's neck, lifting his head before placing the glass on the boy's lips and making sure he drank before carefully nudging him down.

"Just...sit still for a minute," Tony told him, moving to Peter's dressings before gently lifting them to make sure the stitching hadn't busted. Yawning, Peter nodded, glad to feel the water in his system. His eyes fluttered shut as he struggled through the pain in his side. Knowing he was, in fact, fine, not bleeding, just simply feeling the agony of healing.

The billionaire watched tersely as Peter's brow creased in pain before reaching out and holding his hand. "What do you want for breakfast?" He asked trying to take the boy's mind off the pain.

Peter shrugged, "Anything's fine," he really didn't care. He'd eat anything as long as it was editable.

"I was thinking about some bacon, and maybe some french toast and eggs?"

"Yeah, that sounds good," Peter mumbled, brow creasing when Tony's hand came and shifted the bangs that covered his face. The teen attempted to pull himself up again, Tony's arm slipping around him and shifting him until Peter's feet were firmly planted on the floor and he was standing.

The pain had decreased considerably, so Peter leaned into Tony's side before they headed to the kitchen. Tony had always been a better cook than he let on; which Peter was grateful for. The sizzling of bacon filled the room and the smell wafting throughout the compound brought Rhodey in.

"Smells good," the man smiled, arm sliding around the teen's shoulders as they watched the man cook before he looked down at the boy. "How ya feelin' underoos?"

"Better, hurts a little but nothing too bad," The colonel nodded at that, moving to get the plates out of the pantry. Peter rolled his head, trying to get the crick out of his neck and yawned; The teen then wandered off to the couch and sat down, body straightening at the jolt of pain rocketing up his side.

A noise unknowingly escaped his lips at the pain, and both of the men's heads turned so quickly, Tony nearly burned his hand while Rhodey broke a plate in his haste.

"I'm good," Peter called over his shoulder,  holding back another wince as he reached for the remote. Rhodey and Tony switched jobs. The billionaire swept up the broken glass while Rhodey finished cooking the meal.

Once the glass had been picked up, Tony set the table,  filling up the three plates, "Peter what do you want to drink?"

No reply. Thud. Peter fell to the floor of the couch with a thud, his lightheadedness getting the better of him. Tony had launched himself away from the table, and to the pale body on the floor. Rhodey rushed the best he could to the two, the inventor's rough and calloused hand sliding under the boy's neck and carefully lifting his head. Peter's eyelids fluttered open, shaky hands moving to hold his jarred side.

"Peter," Tony fretted, and the teen looked up confused. Rhodey carefully helped Tony get the boy back up onto the couch. Peter leaned against the hand cupping his face, blinking rapidly in an attempt to get his vision to clear up. Considering the head wound, fainting wasn't far-fetched for his situation.

"What?" Peter mumbled, holding to his chest, before gripping to the older man's arm to stable himself.

"You passed out buddy," Tony spoke, trying desperately to keep his voice level.

"Oh, did we eat?" Peter mumbled, and Tony smiled weakly, shaking his head no. Rhodey excused himself to get on the phone with Doctor Strange. Tony moved to bring the boy's plate over, keeping the boy in his vision. Holding to his shoulder as Peter ate, too afraid to let him go. What if he passed out while he was eating? These thoughts ceased to exist when Peter gripped his arm. He set the empty plate on the table before snuggling into the inventor's side the best he could without putting pressure on his injuries.

"Stop that," Peter mumbled, and Tony raised a brow.

"Your heartbeat’s really loud, I'm okay," Peter explained, raising a brow when both the wizard and colonel stepped in. Doctor Strange gave a greeting before Tony helped Peter up and they walked to the infirmary where Strange did a full examination per Tony's request.

"It appears he passed out due to malnourishment, his metabolism is faster than an average person and even more so when healing to such an extent," Strange explained when he found nothing wrong. Peter's wide eyes looked between the three men, reaching out to tug at Tony's suit jacket, pulling him forward, before resting his forehead against the man's chest. 

Tony didn't move, pressing a soft kiss to the boy's head. Running a hand through his hair, he was offering as much comfort as he could. Yawning, Peter proceeded to try to pull the man a little closer. His attempt was futile from where he sat.  

"So what do we do?" Tony asked, turning his head toward the other man, keeping his grip on the boy. 

"I can set an IV, or simply he could eat more. Make shakes, smoothies, whatever works best for you," Strange rambled, mind already drifting to what responsibilities he had left to do at the sanctum.

"Smoothies," Peter mumbled against the older man's chest, finally managing to at least get his arms around the older man's waist. Tony honestly wasn't sure if Peter simply had become more comfortable with hugs, or was simply too hurt and out of it to really care. He couldn't think of a time Peter hadn't blushed when any sort of affection was aimed at him, but now he was flushed with sweat and pale skin.

He was taking the comfort he needed it and Tony didn't have a problem with that at all. What else was he here for?

"Yeah, kid let's go make you some smoothies."                                                                         


End file.
